


Two Sides of the Same Coin

by Anonymous



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Tom Riddle, Consensual Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Edmund and Tom are fascinated with each other, Gentle Sex, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Manipulation, Sex, Slow Sex, Top Edmund Pevensie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Tom agreed to have sex with Pevensie, as a ploy to get closer to him and ultimately unveil his secrets, he expected to be the one on top, the one in control. So why is he melting under Edmund’s caresses to the point of losing himself to the pleasure? And how can this muggle make him feel so good while being sogentle?
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie/Tom Riddle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: Anonymous





	Two Sides of the Same Coin

Each of Pevensie’s kisses, each of his caresses felt heavenly and Tom hated it. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be going at all. When he had initiated this… this romantic fling between them, in lack of a better term, he had seen it as a way to finally take the upper hand, to show the other boy who was the superior one between the two of them.

Since Pevensie was slightly younger than him, Tom had wrongfully assumed he would be lacking in terms of sexual experience. Sure, the wizard didn’t have much of that himself, mostly because he prided himself too much to sleep with just anyone, but he expected it to be enough to dominate the virgin that he imagined Edmund to be.

Instead, he found himself moaning as Pevensie sucked yet another hickey onto his throat. The way his lips trailed along his skin was intoxicating and Tom loathed how he wanted more. He was laying on his back with Pevensie above him and even worse, _inside_ him. His mind reeled with all the humiliating things people would say if they ever learned that he, the heir of Salazar Slytherin, was spreading his legs for a muggle as if he was nothing more than a common whore.

Not that Pevensie was a mere muggle. No, he was way more interesting than that; Tom never would have bothered wasting time on him otherwise. A strange kind of magic, one that he had no prior knowledge of, stuck to Edmund despite him not being a wizard. It had piqued his curiosity the first time he had crossed paths with him while roaming the streets of London.

Upon further investigation, his suspicions had been proven correct. Pevensie noticed magic when other muggles wouldn’t and he seemed immune to a certain array of spells — his resistance to _Legilimens_ being the most annoying by far. There was also a wisdom in his eyes that no normal teenager would possess, as well as something regal in his stance, and when people called him ‘sir’ or ‘boy’, he would sometimes correct them with ‘king’ before he could stop himself.

King of what, Tom still had no idea, but he was determined to find out. If Pevensie had access to a magic unknown to the wizarding world, it could be the key to finding the secret of immortality. And so, he had ultimately decided to befriend Pevensie to get more information on the matter. However, he had soon discovered that Edmund wasn’t as easily manipulated as the students and teachers of Hogwarts — which, in a way, made him even more fascinating, because he was the first person his age he couldn’t sway effortlessly. Tom had then understood that he would need to take their relationship a step further if he wanted to have him talk. Which led him to his current predicament.

Pevensie rolled his hips and Tom arched his back in ecstasy, a silent cry escaping him. His nails dug into the back of his lover as pleasure flooded his mind. Eager lips claimed his own in a soft kiss and the Slytherin all but melted into it. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t resist how delicious this all felt.

The muggle took him slowly and seemed bent on ruining all his efforts to speed things up. It only made Tom more aware of how he could feel every single inch of him each time Pevensie pressed deep into his body. That lazy pace drove him crazy, but at the same time he couldn’t get enough of it.

All things considered, this had to be what infuriated him the most about this whole debacle: how fucking _gentle_ Pevensie was being with him. Tom could have handled hate sex, painful bitemarks and bruising grips way better than… whatever this was. Hell, he never would have believed someone could make him feel so good while staying so vanilla.

So far, Pevensie’s touches had been nothing but sweet and tender, all of them focused on Tom’s pleasure rather than his own. Every time he tried something new, he whispered a litany of ‘Do you like that? Does it feel good? Should I continue?’ in his ear.

Each time, Tom was given the opportunity to turn the situation around, to reverse their position and get on top of Pevensie, both literally and figuratively. However, his traitorous body, overcome by the delightful strokes of Edmund’s skilled fingers, refused to comply with that plan. Instead, whenever Pevensie asked for his consent, he replied with a chant of ‘Please, don’t stop!’ and enthusiastic whimpers.

Had he been a lesser wizard, he could have believed he was under the influence of a hex, but Tom was clever enough to understand that this had nothing to do with magic, no matter how much it cost him to admit so. He only stayed so pliant under Pevensie’s ministrations, because some deep, instinctive part of him, the one he tried to hide and control at all times, enjoyed it thoroughly and didn’t want it to come to an end.

It only added to his mortification, to know that he had agreed to all of the wonderful torture he was currently being subjected to. His shame only grew as a devastating warmth pooled into his belly in a steady, unending flow. Every time Pevensie moved inside him, his pleasure increased and he became more and more vocal about it, no matter how much he wished to pretend it left him unaffected.

As it became almost unbearable, he wrapped his legs around his lover’s waist, needing to anchor himself to something, anything. Pevensie shared a passionate kiss with him and swallowed Tom’s cries of bliss when the wizard stumbled over the edge, his body shaking from the intensity of their lovemaking.

It took the heir of Slytherin several minutes to recover from his high. When he finally came to, his mind felt fuzzy, as if he was floating on clouds made out of wool. He vaguely registered that Pevensie was running a wet cloth over his stomach, mindful of keeping the brushes light against his oversensitive skin as he cleaned him. He barely found the strength to be annoyed at how his body tingled pleasingly under the caring gesture.

Still, as the other boy settled in bed next to him, Tom tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a complete failure. This newfound intimacy would probably lead Pevensie to confide more in him, which was his primary goal. In the end, the unsettling desire that the muggle awoke in him would be nothing more than a temporary setback. Soon, all of Pevensie’s secrets would be his and he would use them to become the strongest wizard of all time.

With that reassuring thought at the back of his mind, Tom allowed himself to fall asleep.

* * *

Edmund couldn’t keep his eyes off of Tom Riddle. Their activities of the night had left the older boy spent, not without reason. During his first stay in Narnia, he had laid with enough tree spirits and foreign diplomats to learn some pleasurable tricks that Tom had seemed to enjoy thoroughly.

Even when he was disheveled in the aftermath of passion, his lover was a sight to behold. With his dark hair, sharp jawline, and the moonlight reflecting upon his ivory skin, he looked almost angelic. Still, the former king of Narnia knew better than to let himself be fooled by such a vision.

When he looked at Tom, he could see a darkness in his eyes, one that he probably believed to be expertly concealed behind the various masks he showed to the rest of the world. However, Edmund had been too good of a diplomat in his time to fall for such a facade.

Nothing of what Tom willingly revealed of himself was truthful, except maybe for his name. The man was indeed a riddle, a mystery, one that Edmund longed to crack open and analyze. His lover kept many secrets of his own, he could tell, and their entire relationship was based around an endless game of cat and mouse, where they consistently tried to uncover what the other was hiding without revealing too much about themselves. Deep down, he held the conviction that Tom was the key to a whole new magical world, way different than Narnia.

But Edmund’s interest in the other boy didn’t end there. Another reason why he was drawn to him was that Tom reminded him of himself or rather, of the person he had been during his first trip to Narnia. Sometimes, he would catch a hint of bitterness and hunger for power hidden behind the sweet nothings and pretty lies Tom would tell him.

And as irrational as it might sound, Edmund felt an urge to protect Tom from himself, from the malicious feelings that festered his heart. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he believed that his lover wasn’t past salvation, not yet. Edmund was also pretty sure he was the only one who could save him, since the rest of the world seemed to fall for Tom’s pleasantries way too easily.

Even if he failed, he would still delay the moment Tom would definitely fall prey to darkness, since the time he spent obsessing over Edmund had to be interfering with whatever other plans he elaborated. He couldn’t imagine the damage the undeniable power that radiated off Tom would cause if it ever went unleashed. To him, it didn’t make a doubt that it would be better for the world if someone tried to keep it at bay.

His musing went off tracks went Tom shifted in his sleep. He instinctively reached for Edmund and curled himself around him, in search of warmth. Edmund smiled; his clingy behavior reminded him of the pet snake he knew the wizard kept around and who would often huddle close to her master when the weather was chilly.

It amused him, because he knew Tom would never show such a defenseless side of himself while awake. But it also showed Edmund a hopeful glimpse of what could be if he managed to really, truly, reach Tom’s heart. It sounded like a strenuous task, considering the temperament of his lover, but he had accomplished quests with worse odds before.

Careful not to wake him up, he ran his fingers through Tom’s dark locks and drew the covers over their naked bodies. Right before he closed his eyes, Edmund sent a silent prayer to Aslan, asking the great lion to let him find the right way to help Tom.

If a traitor could mend while surrounded by love, then maybe Riddle could as well.


End file.
